Take Me Out To The Ball Game
by yo-tan
Summary: I guess this could be a PG-13, because there is a bit of citrus in this. Just a warning. This story also contains slash between C and A. My friend and I came up with the beginning of this story at a football game.


Take Me Out To The Ball Game  
  
"Oh Crowley! I'm so excited!" the blue-eyed angel yelled at the gates. "I've always wanted to see them in real life! I've only seen them on the tele! Oh I'm so excited! Aren't you? Don't you think that."  
  
"Yeah, sure Aziraphale. I'm real excited. I'm not to fond of baseball already. But why, oh, why did we have to see the Angels?"  
  
"Because they are my favorite!" he yelled in response, his blond hair falling around his shoulders.  
  
"Right." Crowley uttered under his breath, shoving the tickets into the black hole where the zombie ticket takers were.  
  
As they entered, they were quite a spectacle. Crowley, with a visible rain cloud forming over his head, was slouched over, and had his opaque sliver glasses shoved so far up the bridge of his nose, even he was afraid he was going to get a nosebleed. His raven colored leather trench coat hid his swift steps so it was as if he was floating in an inky cloud. His once- nicely-combed hair had been thoroughly ruffled multiple times by the fair- haired angel next to him in his friendly gestures of joy. The rest of him was covered in black leather.  
  
Aziraphale was quite the opposite. In his light green dress pants and leather dress shoes, he looked strangely odd with a large white turtleneck-sweatshirt. It hung past his hands, and he had trouble as he attempted to pull his hair back into a low ponytail.  
  
"Oh, Crowley," he remarked his head leaned back at an angle, trying to pull his hair back, "don't be so glum."  
  
Crowley grunted in answer.  
  
"Please?." he implored drooping his mouth to a low pout, "for me?"  
  
He stopped in midstride, stopping Aziraphale. A slow red creeped up his face. Suddenly a small smile appeared.  
  
"Sure Angel. for you."  
  
Aziraphale seemed pleased with the response and they continued onward.  
  
After much debate on where their entrance was ("No Angel! I told you it was on the South side!" "No Crowley! It was on the North side!" "Look! Just because North means something to you!" "Hey don't be so. so."), they both wandered over to the snack line.  
  
"Wow. they have shorter lines in Hell for a snack line."  
  
Aziraphale giggled at this comment, and continued to struggle to get his hair up.  
  
"Uh, Azi? I hate to bring this up again, but you do look really, uh, well. quite dumb in that outfit."  
  
"Well Crowley," he retorted, with much emphases, his azul eyes rolled up into his head, "it wasn't my fault that the air lines lost my two of my suit cases!"  
  
"I told you we should have flown!"  
  
"What do you mean? We did fl."  
  
Crowley's slowly raised eyebrow and piercing stare did the trick.  
  
"Ooooohhh." the angel exclaimed, turning his head away in understanding.  
  
Suddenly, Aziraphale's yellow hair-tie snapped away, making a dramatic escape to the ground.  
  
"Oh. Crummy Ducks!"  
  
Crowley's other eyebrow raised to meet the other one.  
  
"Crummy Ducks? That's one I've never heard before."  
  
"I picked it up in the Middle Ages."  
  
"Heh. Right."  
  
The one-who-did-not-so-much-fall-as-vaguely-wander-downwards watched as Aziraphale's lean and strong form squatted over to pick up the hair band. He smiled, remembering the thoughts he had had the night before. Of just wanting to hold him in his arms all night. He wanted so much to just go over to his room next door and tell him. Tell him everything. From the time he first fell in love with him to how he felt now. How his most sweet dreams involved Aziraphale. And his beautiful ice colored eyes. God he how he dreamed of those eyes.  
  
Suddenly Crowley found him self staring and jerked himself away with a soft cough. As he did a small black feather fell from his trench coat and landed on top of the ivory white feather that had fallen from Aziraphale's sweatshirt.  
  
"Fe-ders Mommy! Fe-ders!"  
  
Crowley smiled and looked at the small blond haired boy behind him bending over clumsily to pick up their two feathers.  
  
He fell over on a soft "plop" on his cushioned bottom.  
  
"Fe-ders Mommy!" he offered, holding them up to his starch-faced mother.  
  
By now Aziraphale had noticed and was watching to child with a 1000- watt smile on his face.  
  
The pig-faced father suddenly scooped the feathers from the boy's hands. "Danny! Do NOT play with those! You don't know where those came from!"  
  
"Yes," screeched the mother, "those probably came from some filthy, dirty, disgusting, horrible, and not to mention ugly bird! It's probably never been cleaned and is just *shudder* revolting!"  
  
Aziraphale noticed that Crowley had strangely calm look on his face as a visible ruffle came from inside the back of his trench coat.  
  
"Come on Crowley." Aziraphale said hopefully, pulling him around away from the woman.  
  
As they pulled away, the child again spoke, this time out of the two's hearing range, pointing excitedly. "An-gels Mommy! An-gels!"  
  
"Looks more like fairies to me." the pig faced man whispered under his breath to his wife.  
  
They wandered up to the counter after what must have been years, a pimply faced teenage boy dressed in red stripes asked them monotonously (not to mention squeakily) (Aziraphale could barely keep from giggling. Crowley had to nudge him to be quiet before he burst into giggles him self) if he could "take their order".  
  
"Yes," Aziraphale articulated quite dignified, "I'll have the nachos and a."  
  
"We're outta nachos."  
  
"What?!? But. but. I really was looking forward to some. Gosh."  
  
A depressed look came over Aziraphale.  
  
Crowley threw his hand to his head and screamed, "Oh, anguish! Agony! Torment! Torture! Suffering! Woe! Pain! Distress! Sorrow! Pang! Grief! Misery! Heartbreak! Heartache! And let's not forget Despair!"  
  
A hopeful smile was hiding from behind his dramatic, thrown back, and angular pose.  
  
Aziraphale laughed, his eyes scrunched up from laughter.  
  
"Just give me a hot dog," he said turning to the teenage boy.  
  
The gloved hands slapped down on the sticky counter, and Crowley leaned forward to the boy.  
  
"Give us each two beers!"  
  
*  
  
"So who's playing again?"  
  
"Crowley! I can not believe you! Were playing the Diablos! The biggest rivals of the Angels!"  
  
"Really?" Crowley asked, sitting up suddenly interested. He looked down to the field, seeing the Diablos dressed in black.  
  
A mischievous smile creeped upon the dark one's face.  
  
"Now, now Crowley. No tricks."  
  
He pivoted around toward Aziraphale, looking pathetic and said. "Just one?" he asked, holding up one finger.  
  
"No!"  
  
"One tinsy.winsy. trick?" His eyes were squinted looking through the small space he was holding up through his fingers.  
  
"NO!"  
  
Suddenly a player dressed in black, who was warming up on a bat, hit a baseball that flew out of nowhere and it went flying. Right into the stands. It would have been a home run had they been playing.  
  
"That's it," Crowley smiled, slumping back into his chair, leaving one of The Diablos scratching his head, staring at his bat and then at the stands, and then wandered over to his friend, gave him back his bat, and picked back up his pitching glove.  
  
Aziraphale smiled and shook his head lightly at Crowley's silly antics. He turned and watched the vapor float up from around Crowley's cold face. His cheeks were softly pink from the cold, and his face was smiling as it stared off onto the field and sipped the beer.  
  
Aziraphale was lost in his gazing. He wished. Oh how he wished. It had been how many years. Thousands at least. He wished he could tell him. Just reach out and take his hand in his. God how he dreamed of those hands.  
  
Suddenly Aziraphale snapped back to reality to the sound of a loud organ playing. The game was starting!  
  
"Oooh! I'm so excited!" the angel practically screamed.  
  
*  
  
"My bum's goin' cold, Crowley. Not just from the cold either. From these plastic seats! I'm gonna go and get us some more beer and hot dogs!"  
  
"I could warm that bum up for ya angel." Crowley smiled suggestively.  
  
Though Aziraphale blushed brightly at the suggestion, he simply tapped him on the shoulder and declared, "Right you wish!"  
  
As Aziraphale wandered off in search of more food, Crowley watched the game absent-mindedly. He sighed. There was no way in hell, or heaven for that matter that anything was ever going to happen between them. As these thoughts passed through his head, he began wishing. Wishing so hard that something would happen. Some act of God or someone. Oh if only.  
  
"Hey Crowley!"  
  
He looked up to see the bright and happy angel swinging his arm's around, one full of food, which was beginning to fall out slowly but surely.  
  
"Good thing there aren't many people here today." Crowley whispered under his breath.  
  
Suddenly a white baseball flew out of the air making contact with the angel's blond head. Hot dogs, relish, and beer took flight from the angel's hands as Aziraphale went flying.  
  
"THANK GOD!" Crowley screamed, arm's outstretched, towards the heavens.  
  
Suddenly Crowley realized that Aziraphale was on the ground, not moving  
  
"Oh crap."  
  
He ran over to Aziraphale and took his head in his arms.  
  
"Azi? Azi? Are you OK?"  
  
Aziraphale's eyes looked over to his bright blond hair which was sprawled over his face and shoulders, whispered, "And. I just got it up too." and then proceded to pass out.  
  
Crowley assured the on-lookers that Aziraphale would be fine, this happened all the time, don't worry, etc. as he dragged him off to be revived. As he went over he picked up the baseball.  
  
Aziraphale was dragged the whole way to the men's room by Crowley, who both received many strange looks, who then propped him up against the sink.  
  
A large purple and red welt was forming on Aziraphale's head.  
  
"Bloody hell." Crowley mumbled under his breath, "why do you have to be so damn heavy!?"  
  
He splashed the warm water on his face hoping to revive him. "Oh wake up damn you!"  
  
Suddenly Aziraphale woke up sitting up suddenly, causing Crowley to spray water all over the both of them.  
  
Aziraphale threw his arms around Crowley's neck to keep from slipping which they both almost did.  
  
"Hey it's OK! I got you angel!" he said to the surprised not to mention slightly afraid angel (hey! he didn't know where he was! or what the heck had happened for that matter.) in what almost felt like a cha-cha- cha dance move.  
  
Aziraphale looked at Crowley and asked, "What happened? Where are we? Why does my head hurt so much?"  
  
"We're in the men room. You got hit in the head with a base ball."  
  
"Did you keep the base ball?"  
  
"Bloody hell angel! Is that all you think about!? Base..."  
  
Suddenly Aziraphale's lips silenced Crowley's ramblings.  
  
When Crowley pulled away, quite surprised though, he questioned, "What was that for?"  
  
"Well." Aziraphale blushed slightly, "I saw it in a comic once. It was Japanese I think. It was all happy and stuff and it was cute and they were all wet and had just come out of the rain and stuff... .I think it was called Funk or Fake or something or."  
  
"Oh Angel.shut up!" Crowley said smiling.  
  
He kissed him gently, and Aziraphale's hands slowly slid downward, pulling the black trench coat with him.  
  
This time, when Aziraphale pulled away, he whispered in to Crowley's ear as he gently kissed his neck, "I love you. I have always loved you."  
  
"Me too." came the response.  
  
"Hey Crowley?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"We're soaking wet."  
  
"So?"  
  
"I think we're gonna have to dry off so we don't freeze outside."  
  
"How?"  
  
"You know that hand dryer over there? We could dry our clothes in that."  
  
"Good idea. Here. I'll help."  
  
Crowley slowly pulled off Aziraphale's sweatshirt while Aziraphale kissed him gently on his neck.  
  
Soon Crowley's shirt was off (though to this day neither can remember when or how it came off) and he was kissing Aziraphale's neck.  
  
"I love you Angel. I always have." murmured Crowley gently into Aziraphale's ear.  
  
  
  
*  
  
As they went back to their seats to sit down, Crowley beamed.  
  
"Well, well, WELL. wasn't that an adventure!"  
  
Aziraphale blushed a deep shade of red, his arm linked through Crowley's.  
  
They took their seats, and shivered in the cold, but leaned against each other for warmth.  
  
Suddenly they felt a tap on their shoulders.  
  
"Hey you guys don't mean to bother you but, uh." The man behind them pointed at Crowley.  
  
"Weren't you, uh, wearing his clothes?" he asked, his finger switching to Aziraphale.  
  
The two looked at each other and laughed.  
  
"Yeah." they both said in response, laughing.  
  
"OK then!" the guy answered with a shrug leaning back into his seat.  
  
*  
  
"That was some game. huh?"  
  
"Yeah." Crowley smirked, "I think I won."  
  
Aziraphale looked up at him shocked from under his bandage, which was partially covering his eyes.  
  
"I'm just kidding!"  
  
"Good thing," he responded with a smile.  
  
"Yeah I know. I'm just glad we're back at the hotel," Crowley mumbled cheerfully, downing his cup.  
  
Holding up a thermos, Aziraphale offered, "More egg snog?"  
  
Suddenly the angel realized what he had just said.  
  
"I mean!. uh."  
  
"Yeah," Crowley whispered, planting a soft kiss on his lips, "I knew what you meant." 


End file.
